


A Show

by cryingcryptids (tatterwitch)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Car Chases, M/M, Oral Sex, Street Racing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/cryingcryptids
Summary: The two orbit one another like two stars; their pull dizzying and deadly.The ends justify the means....But the means are often brutal and very much enjoyed.Their methods vary but it's known that they relish in the work they do. The tools don't matter. The end they desire is always met.





	A Show

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist for this work --> [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLdg9B9pLae_XlANx83BF_C-QIGFAtBKAi)

Isa and Vanitas are deities of the dark roads and city streets.

Their names are synonymous with the tense silence before a fight. Mention of them has the icy fingers of dreadful respect dragging down any listener's spine. It's an unspoken fact that if you want to keep your life, you don't fuck with them or whatever's theirs.

Isa, with his long, moon-pale hair and lithe, sculpted body. His eyes shine no matter how thick the shadows are; all feline jade with flecks of gold. The scars that mark his body are silvery and denote what some people whisper of as some form of immortality. His mouth has a lethal cutting edge and his smiles can cut any man in two. Piercings drip from his ears and wink against his skin like shards of fallen stars. He's something like a god; untouchable, ethereal, and frigid.

Vanitas, with his wild dark hair and eyes ringed in smudged shadows. His teeth flash, more snarl than anything like a smile. He's lean and lithe; a lethal shadow that moves soundlessly and wields power like he was born into it. His eyes gleam like a wolf's, all hot gold and insatiable hunger. Even when his lids fall half shut amid the clouds of smoke that curl from his lips, they miss nothing. He's not a man, he's a shadow, a beast, a killer.

The two orbit one another like two stars; their pull dizzying and deadly.

They're both grey and steeped in the darkness that all lost souls are. Light filters through cracks sometimes, only to be doused in the same pitch black that fills the spaces between stars. They'll save a young girl from the bruises that circle her throat and wrists and bloom like fallen iris petals across her cheek and chin. The next day her pimp is found draped over the hood of his car, a sickening display that makes even the bellies of the hardened cops turn. The ends justify the means....But the means are often brutal and very much enjoyed.

Their methods vary but it's known that they relish in the work they do. The tools don't matter. The end they desire is always met.

It's after another end has been met that Isa pulls Vanitas into the shadows of an alley.

Vanitas' jacket is splattered with damp darkness. His knuckles and face are adorned with it. The wetness is black in the dim light of the street and smears beneath Isa's wandering fingers. Thick, dark lashes fan down over sharp cheeks and shutter those golden eyes. Soft, bruised lips part around a hiss. His body arches as he takes a great, shuddering breath. Short nails catch and tug on the threads of Isa's jacket as it slips beneath his fingertips.

Isa wastes no time in leveling his lover with a sinuous smile. He hitches one hand in the hem of the darkened shirt beneath Vanitas' jacket and pushes it up. Muscles move underneath all that pretty, tattooed skin. Goosebumps raise when Isa leans in and drags his tongue up the trail of dark hair that leads from the band of Vanitas' pants.

A hand sinks into Isa's hair, blunt nails scratching just the barest bit. There's no tug, just a pleading sort of hold that makes him smile against Vanitas' belly. He makes quick work of the task before him. The button pops free with a flick of his thumb. Metal teeth hiss apart as he drags the tab of Vanitas' fly down. Dark denim parts beneath his hands, exposing gloriously bare flesh dusted with dark hair and marked with dizzying patterns of ink.

Wetness smears over flushed flesh as Isa reaches in and coaxes free his reward. Heat fills his hand and he relishes in the way Vanitas sucks in a breath, his head falling back against the brick.

Isa daubs at the crown with his thumb, spreading precum as he leans in and lets his breath wash over all that pretty skin. He teases for a moment more before dipping his head and lapping at the underside of the crown.

Vanitas' lip curls. His teeth flash and he lets out a muffled groan. His hand in Isa's hair tightens fitfully. His hips shift like he wants to thrust but he only lets his head fall back against the wall again.

Isa slowly drags his tongue over Vanitas' length, not bothering to muffle his own sounds of enjoyment. He knows how much the noises spur Vanitas higher. He wraps his lips around the head and hums as he sinks lower inch by inch.

Vanitas' breathing shatters into a frantic sort of sawing. The tiniest whimper skates the edge of an exhale when Isa's nose presses into trimmed dark hair. His hips jerk as his cock twitches on Isa's tongue; heavy and hot.

A siren cuts through the air, sharp and distant but quickly approaching.

Vanitas snarls, animalistic and enraged. His hand falls from Isa's hair.

Isa groans as he's pushed off gently but firmly and lifted back to his feet. He makes for the car without another word, slipping into the passenger seat and fastening his seatbelt. He watches Vanitas tuck his cock back beneath the taut denim. The fly bulges in a way that makes his mouth water and he digs his nails into the leather beneath his legs.

Vanitas darts back to the car and ducks in. The engine rumbles to life almost silently as the door claps shut. Metal clicks and gold eyes flash as they flick over.

The car lurches backwards, wheels catching on the rain-dampened pavement. Darkened brick and dilapidated windows blur past before the alley opens up once more. The car spins, steering wheel turning swiftly beneath Vanitas' expert hands. Tires screech before they find purchase again.

Isa's heart leaps in his chest as streetlights begin to streak by.

Vanitas shifts gears again, knuckles still bloodied and bruising. He gives the rearview mirror a cursory look, eyes catching the light of passing streetlamps. Isa can't help but lean in, hands roving over the planes covered by leather and thin cotton.

Blue lights spin in the mirrors, distant but closing.

The grin Vanitas slants at him is as wicked as the blade of a knife. "Let's give 'em a show."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @cryingcryptids


End file.
